


Open Books and Closed Doors

by AdurnaSkulblaka



Category: Homestuck
Genre: A little bit anyway, Drunk Roxy, F/M, Kanaya is the best moirail, Karkat and his quadrants, M/M, Poor Calliope, sort of humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdurnaSkulblaka/pseuds/AdurnaSkulblaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy struggles daily to keep her friends from pulling Jake apart, but Calliope's always there for her, thank God. But when Calliope goes silent, Roxy takes it upon herself to find her and check up on her, even if it means she has to actually see her, which Calliope's never wanted.</p><p>Karkat is perfectly happy, concerning his quadrants. Terezi comes along and shakes things up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Books and Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onlytheendoftheworldagain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlytheendoftheworldagain/gifts).



Today isn’t one of the good ones. It’s so far from being one of the better ones it’s not funny even that she’s reached for the liquor and nearly drowned herself in its sweet burn. She knows her head’s going to hurt tomorrow, but she can’t bring herself to care at the moment.  


Breathing a heavy sigh laden with the scent of alcohol, Roxy lets her limbs dangle from the chair in her bedroom lazily. A bottle dangles from her hand, her fingers curled around the neck loosely. There’s a little bit of liquid left in the bottom, but it’s barely enough for a mouthful, and certainly not enough to make her situation any worse – or better, depending on how you look at it.  


Most people wouldn’t even consider it a bad day, really, but to Roxy it feels like the whole weight of the Earth has just come crashing down on her shoulders. She feels like Atlas, having to carry the world on her back, feeling the ache of it down her spine constantly. But to her, it’s far more than that: she’s the glue that holds her friends together; she tries writing, but there’s always her mother’s books there that are undoubtedly better; there are her failing attempts at trying to set up Jane and Jake, and then the pangs of guilt when she sees Dirk’s longing.  


None of it is good enough. She can’t do it, so she turns to the alcohol.  
It’s a soothing buzz in the back of her mind, a sour tang in her throat. It’s just what she needs to relax for a while.  


Because when it all hangs on her, what else can she do?  
All of these thoughts try and push their way into her mind. Unwilling to let them, she gropes about her desk until her hand comes into contact with a half-full glass.

oOo

She wakes to the sound of her computer beeping quietly. Roxy can’t quite tell yet whether she’s sober or still drunk; judging by the fact that she doesn’t have a headache yet, she decides it’s probably the latter. The amount of drink she swallowed probably kept her that way while she tried to sleep it off.  


At some point, she fell face first onto her bed – the wrong way up. She wriggles her toes, and finds them touching the edge of the duvet, while her head is being treated to the sadly pillow-less end of the bed.  


She considers simply rolling onto the floor, but a quick glance at the hard ground makes the decision for her.  


Instead, Roxy throws out a hand, grips the first thing she grabs – her chair – and tries to pull herself to her feet. She wobbles unsteadily for a moment, but then with a firm staggering step, she widens her stance and secures her balance.  


It’s a good thing she can just simply fall into the seat. There’s a glass sat there temptingly, but then a wave of sickness rolls over her and she carefully nudges it away. No, perhaps she shouldn’t drink now; while she’s still under the influence of alcohol, she’s definitely considerably less drunk than she was a few hours ago.  


Now her room is dark with the pressing in of night; the glow of the laptop screen is especially bright, almost piercingly so.  


She has a handful of messages, mostly from her friends. If Roxy’s honest, she didn’t think she made it all that clear just what she’d been feeling when she handled yet another confusing (not to mention awkward on Roxy’s part, she knows what’s happening on every side of the goddamn triangle) moment between Jake, Jane and Dirk.  


Roxy really, really feels sorry for Jake.  


She skips the messages from all three of them. Jake will be oblivious as usual, Jane will be probably on the sad side of the spectrum, along with Dirk, and Roxy really doesn’t need them killing her buzz now when she feels marginally better.  


If it weren’t for Calliope (and alcohol), she’d probably have gone mad years ago.  


She’s never met Calliope, or heard her voice, for that matter. She’s never seen a picture of her, either. But it doesn’t matter. Calliope is quirky and cheerful, which is just what Roxy needs amongst all the stress of looking after her friends. Sadly, she doesn’t seem to be about at the moment, so with a defeated sigh, Roxy decides to see what her friends have said.

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Roxy?  
TT: You’re okay, right?  
TT: Huh.  
TT: Guess I’ll just talk to myself, then.  
TT: Whatever.  
TT: Thanks for today, I guess.  
TT: You better not be drunk off your ass again.  
TT: You are, aren’t you? Can’t say I blame you.  
TT: Sleep it off before you do anything stupid. 

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

It almost makes her giggle. Dirk’s kind of sweet, and he’s remained that way, even though she’s tried to get her flirt on with him more than a few times than is perhaps acceptable. Even when she first gained the knowledge of his crush (Jake), she still persisted on trying it on, and – bless him – Dirk stayed quite the gentleman. Ignoring his use of swears, of course, but those are just part of his regular vocabulary.  


It’s a relief to see that he isn’t too bothered by the previous day’s events, but then again, he could have been hiding it. Either way, Roxy’s pleased. Another bomb successfully defused, for now.  


Next, she decides to tackle Jake. 

  
golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]  


GT: Dirks been acting weird.  
GT: I just get his damn shades.  
GT: Id really like to talk to him but he wont reply to any of my messages.   
GT: Do you have any idea why?  
GT: Huh i suppose youre not around.  
GT: Never mind.  
GT: I wonder if janes about?

golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]  


Ah, Jake. Sweet, oblivious Jake. As far as Roxy knows, he’s completely unaware that both Jane and Dirk are head over heels for him. Roxy had entertained the idea herself, but she’d sworn off of him for Jane's sake - and her sanity's.  


Speak of the girl… 

  
gutsyGumshoe [GG] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

GG: I can’t believe this!  
GG: I honestly don’t know why I even bother!  
GG: It’ll be a pointless exercise, because he won’t even get it. It’ll go straight over his head, as usual.  
GG: Thank you for your help today, though, Roxy.   
GG: Oh, great, now he’s messaging me.  
GG: I think I’m just going to go offline.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]  


Roxy feels like she should give her friend some sort of consoling message, but in her inebriated state it would end up being a slur of letters that don’t really make sense. Perhaps it’s best to wait until the morning, when her head is clearer (maybe, there’s no guarantee).  


Through the haze still clouding her mind, she thinks to glance at the clock, and with a soft groan it’s confirmed: it’s still the early hours of the morning, much too early for someone expecting a hangover to be awake. But just as she’s about to close the lid of the laptop and return to the tempting nest of duvet, another notification pops up.  


Roxy’s heart skips a beat, but she doesn’t know why, nor does she care right now. Calliope. Her friend seems to have some sort of sense of when Roxy needs her, and that’s just fine. In fact, it’s more than fine. It’s pretty damn awesome. 

*

Karkat’s minding his own business, thank you very much. He doesn’t want company. He doesn’t want people bothering him. He just wants to finish his homework so he can actually try to enjoy himself.  


Well, okay. There are two people he wouldn’t mind sitting with him, but they’re not around, so he might as well generalise. 

His matesprit and moirail are busy, unfortunately – so is his kismesis, but he’s glad about that. Then again, even having that unbearable asshole around might make things more eventful. The tedium of writing an essay is dragging.  


Shaking his head firmly, Karkat grits his teeth and gets back to work. The school’s library is nice and quiet. Perfect.  


It’s not that he doesn’t like work. When he gets down to it, it’s not that bad. It can even be enjoyable, sometimes. It’s just the fact that it takes up so much time, time that could be better spent elsewhere. He certainly doesn’t spend enough time with his moirail, for a start, and he hates seeing the crestfallen look on his matesprit’s face when he tells him he’s busy.  


It really can’t get any worse (well, unless his kismesis decided to waltz on up with more swagger in his step than Karkat cares to think about, but he decides not to delve into that).  


Only, it can. And the results leave Karkat in an even worse mood than before, which is, frankly, worrying.  


“Oh, Karkat!”  


Terezi Pyrope.  


She’s the matesprit of Dave Strider – who is, coincidentally, Karkat’s kismesis – and full-time irritating little shit. He’s often wondered whether the two of them exist just to make his life hell. It really wouldn’t surprise him; sometimes, it feels like whatever deities exist have one goal in mind, and that is to ruin Karkat’s day.  


This isn’t even the worrying part.  


The worst part is that Terezi infuriates him almost as much as Dave does, and it really shouldn’t be like that. As much as Karkat hates Dave – and he really, really does – he actually wants to keep him around. He wants Dave to be his kismesis. It’s just such a perfect clash of personalities that it makes Karkat _happy_.  


If Terezi was his kismesis, all hell would break loose.  


Not only would it probably ruin the matespritship between Dave and Terezi, but Karkat would begin to hate the kismesissitude almost as much as the kismesis.  


To make a long story short, Karkat likes the rivalry between him and Dave.  


So, when he hears Terezi coo his name, he bites his tongue and stays silent. He has work to do, and a kismesissitude to preserve.  


Of course, that doesn’t deter her.  


She practically drapes herself over his shoulder – Karkat stiffens in response, the tip of his pencil cracking against the paper – and takes a long, deep sniff. Her lips twist into an expression of disappointment (but, then again, it could just be another grin, she has so many ones for different things it’s ridiculous).  


“Karkat!” she whines. “You’re being boring.”  


He can’t help it. He bites the bait. Like a fish caught on the end of a line, he’s drawn in.  


“No, I’m being productive, unlike you. I’m busy. Go away.” It’s short and sharp. Innocent, really.  


Terezi pouts and plucks at his sleeve like a child begging for attention. “You’re always busy. I overhead John talking to Vriska, you know, and let me tell you, he didn’t sound too happy! You’re being a terrible matesprit, Karkat; really, you should look after him more.”  


Actual pain lances through his chest at her words. He knows he’s hurting John, and he wants to stop, but he can’t, not now. If Terezi left him alone, he could probably correct the problem.  


“I don’t need you to lecture me,” he snaps, bristling like an angry cat. “Go and find someone else to force your presence on. In fact, even better, why don’t you just disappear altogether? It’d make my life about a million times easier.”  


Terezi actually shakes his chair; it rattles Karkat’s temper almost as much as it rattles him physically. “Come on, what happened to the old Karkat? He used to be much more fun! Remember when we were mate-”  


“Shut up!”  


Karkat’s shout echoes in the library. The few people hidden away in little nooks and crannies look up, their amused faces expecting to see a kismesissitude in action, but the expressions slip. The black feelings between Karkat and Dave aren’t exactly hidden, so the sight that greets the other students is surprising.  


Karkat, glaring furiously at Terezi, has sprung out of his seat. They’re almost the same height, only Karkat’s a bit shorter, but nobody says that (apart from John; he thinks it’s cute. Karkat refuses to agree that his shortness is cute). Terezi’s leaning towards him a bit, almost eagerly.  


A sly grin pulls Terezi’s lips wide. “Did I hit a nerve? Huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Did I get to you?”  


Yes, she has.  


Karkat’s worried enough about his and Dave’s relationship; he doesn’t want to add strain to his matespritship with John, too. He really wants to make that flushed partnership work. It’s the first time he’s felt that strongly about a matesprit, but he knows that it’s _right_. It’s perfect. Caring for someone has never been easier.  


He can’t let Terezi ruin this, too. If there’s one thing he has to save, it’s his matespritship. Terezi is toxic. If Karkat lets her worm her way into his affairs, she’ll dig in her roots and poison everything.  


“You stay the fuck away from John,” he spits between his teeth. Raising a hand, he jabs his finger into Terezi’s chest. “You stay away from him, or I swear to whatever deity you’ve pledged yourself to, I will never forgive you. I care about him a lot, okay? I probably shouldn’t, not this much, but I do, and I won’t let you touch him.”  


Karkat’s anger starts rising, making an odd tingling feeling in his chest. Terezi takes a step back, actually looking surprised, but Karkat doesn’t stop there. He follows her, refusing to allow distance between them now. Alarm bells start going off in his head, but he ignores them.  


“You know what else you should do? You should just disappear off the face of the planet. I wouldn’t care if you did, and I doubt anyone else would, you miserable piece of shit. Do you know why I know this, Terezi? Do you know why I know it?”  
He doesn’t leave her room to answer. Terezi opens her mouth, a frown pulling on her brows, but Karkat’s words come out in a rush that makes her snap it shut again. Her teeth make an audible click. “Because I, like everyone else with any sense, _despise you_. You must exist just to fuck up my life; I don't see why else you would be around, Terezi.”  


There’s a very heavy silence that settles over the whole room. There’s no rustling of turning pages, no scratches of pencils.  


Only silence.  


Slowly, horror settles over Karkat. He couldn’t have said that, could he? It was all a terrible thought that crossed his mind, that’s it. He just fell asleep while working; this is all a nightmare-  


But no, that’s definitely Terezi frozen in front of him. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, can sense the cold trickling in his veins as what just happened clicks into place in his brain.  


Karkat does the only thing that makes sense.  


He bolts, not even picking up his homework as he flees.

*

  


  
TG: and i relly try to look after them, u know?  
TG: *realy  
TG: *really  
TG: but thye make it really hard  
UU: i Understand perfectly, yes.  
UU: it’s a shame that this shoUld happen to yoU, of all people. yoU’re really very kind, roxy! ^u^  
TG: aww, thanks callie   
TG: i dont think im the mbest pershon 2 look after them tho  
TG: i mean  
TG: if strider got his head out of his ass  
TG: hed maybe be wrok  
TG: *work  
UU: i woUldn’t be so sure about that!  
UU: i think yoU’re the very best person to look after them! yoU’ve managed swimmingly so far.  
TG: if by swimingly u mean lettin them play tug-o-war wit jake, yeah  
UU: don’t be so hard on yoUrself, roxy. i don’t know anyone who coUld have been more sUccessfUl! yoU shoUld be proUd of how well yoU’ve cared for them so far.  
UU: i’m afraid i mUst leave yoU now. my brother is being most infUriating!  
TG: ur bro sux  
TG: he is literally the worst  
UU: qUite!  
UU: feel free to leave me a message and i’ll read it as soon as i can.  
UU: ta!

uranianUmbra ceased cheering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

As soon as Calliope’s gone, Roxy sits back in her chair and sighs. A silly little grin breaks across her lips. Calliope never fails to make her happy, ever; the girl’s wonderful, absolutely wonderful. The fact that she’ll even talk to Roxy in her drunken state is telling of how patient she is. Most would probably become frustrated with her within minutes, but not sweet Calliope, never Calliope.  


Roxy know without a doubt that Calliope would talk to her for hours on end if she could. If her brother would stop being such a pain, that is.  


She’s heard all about Calliope’s brother – he sounds like a little shit and a pain in the ass – except his name. Roxy doesn’t know that, Calliope’s never told her. She doesn’t want to bother her friend, but she’s interested. It’s a little bit more about Calliope that Roxy wants to know. It’ll help her put together the Calliope-puzzle in her brain.  


Well. Not that she could do a puzzle now, anyway. Dawn is just starting to break, and with it there is a low ache in Roxy’s temples.  


She presses the tips of her fingers to the sides of her head and winces. In talking to Calliope, she gave up valuable silent time to sleep in – now the birds are twittering away outside her window, almost as if their lives depend on whether they can sing.  


Sometimes, Roxy wonders if it’s a bit like that for everyone.  


She decides against sleeping for now. Instead, Roxy thinks she’ll find some aspirin and a glass of water, and then maybe curl up in bed before she picks what to do next. If only Calliope hadn’t had to sort out her brother…  


Roxy could’ve kept up her wish to talk to her for ages. They’d talk about anything and everything; they’d discuss Roxy’s friends and Calliope’s brother; and maybe, just maybe, they’d delve into themselves.

oOo

There’s an ache in Calliope’s chest that she can’t identify as she watches Roxy's username disappear off of the 'online' list. Her expression fills with a kind of sadness and longing that doesn’t make sense. She wants to just reach through the screen, pluck Roxy out of it and wrap her up in her arms. Roxy deserves to be coddled for once. She’s forever catering to her friends; she never thinks about herself.  


Calliope thinks about her. Quite a bit, actually.  


What else can she do when she’s got Caliborn pacing around inside her head, waiting to wrest control back from her? How else can she push him back?  


She can feel him now. It feels like he’s testing her limits, plucking at the seams of the boundary holding him at bay. He snaps and growls like an angry dog.  


That’s a good comparison of him. He’s like a furious little terrier. Very much all bite.  


There’s a distinctive pull now, one urging her to give in. She squashes it instantly. _No,_ she thinks firmly. _Wait your turn._  


That’s the only way she can stay where she is. Calliope knows without a doubt that if she tried to trust Caliborn, he’d crush her before she could even cry to Roxy for help.  


But that’s just the thing, the problem that Caliborn knows and cradles in his greedy little hands. They both know that Roxy wouldn’t get what had happened until it was too late.  


In preparation for one of these emergencies, Calliope sent Roxy a document. In it were instructions of what she should do if she didn’t hear from Calliope for a few days. That’s why the cherub is always so present online; she’s there to make sure Roxy doesn’t think she needs to open the document. Roxy doesn’t know about cherubs, or that Calliope and her brother are aliens – or a single alien, depending on how you look at it – that had to learn to survive on Earth without guidance. Roxy has never seen Calliope, and she intends to keep it that way.  


If things go well, Roxy will remain ignorant. And while it hurts Calliope, it’s the best way to do it.  


Calliope’s winning, bit by bit. She can tell. She’s beating Caliborn through wit and intelligence, which he has little of. Oh, yes, he tries his ‘shitty twists’, but they fail more nowadays than they used to. They’re not as surprising, they're less shitty, and generally they just make Calliope roll her eyes.  


But there’s also the danger that Caliborn’s utter fury with this fact will be what saves him and destroys Calliope.  


She takes her time before she goes to place a shackle around her ankle. Maybe, like if she _was_ teaching a dog, she can teach Caliborn that she is the one in control, that she calls the shots. She’d rather not have to get rid of him if she can, but if that’s what it comes to…  


If it means that she’ll get to stay with Roxy, and if it means that this strange feeling in her heart will stay, Calliope will do it.  


It’s time.

*

Karkat’s curled up at his moirail’s side, face buried into her thin shoulder. A good while ago, he silently noted that he could see her really pale skin from his hiding point, but that’s irrelevant so he let it slip out of his head again. She lightly strokes his back, which would actually rile Karkat up if it was anyone else (even John), but when it’s Kanaya, it’s somehow not so bad.  


“Are you sure that you have chosen the right kismesis?” she asks quietly.  


It’s not the first question she’s sent his way. When Karkat marched into her room at the Maryams’ home, she’d carefully tried to tease out just why he was there, but he hadn’t had any of it. Karkat had simply pushed his way into her arms and demanded a hug.  


Despite being a little bit bony, Kanaya’s surprisingly comfortable to cuddle with.  


Karkat… not so much. He’s like a stray tom cat: all puffed up fur to make himself look bigger, and furious hissing to warn off most people who get too close without his permission.  


There are only two people on Karkat’s list of ‘People He Will Hug’, and that list comprises of his matesprit and his moirail. He’ll only ever spill his guts to one of them.  


That person is Kanaya.  


Eventually, Karkat had opened up and told her the whole story. She’d listened with quiet attentiveness, dark eyes wide and fixed on him, almost as if she’d been soaking in every detail. And, when Karkat’s voice had trailed off into irritated little growls, she’d pulled him back in for another hug.  


Now she’s cradling his head to her shoulder, threading her fingers through his mess of fluffy black hair, and trying to encourage him to open up further.  


She can feel Karkat bristle. “Of course I picked the right kismesis! I hate that fucking miserable excuse for a human being way more than I hate Terezi.”  


“But you did say that you hated her, too,” Kanaya reminds him.  


Now Karkat sort of… deflates.  


“I didn’t mean in that way. The hate I have for Dave is different to what I feel for Terezi.” Karkat’s hand curls into the hem of Kanaya’s shirt, as if by doing so he can hold himself steady in this fact.  


Kanaya remains silent, silently prompting him, so Karkat continues, this time going over the whole thing again, but with more detail. “With Terezi it just… it sucks, Kanaya, there’s no two ways about it. It’s shit. She’s just being an interfering asshole with no consideration for anyone else around her. It’s not even mostly directed at me – it’s everyone.”  


“You just react more.”  


As if to prove her words, Karkat begins to bulk himself up again, tension lining his shoulders, but Kanaya’s soft touch against his spine calms him back down.  


Thank God for moirails.  


Karkat seems to be biting the tip of his tongue and his brow is furrowed, so Kanaya adds, “And Dave?”  


There’s no mistaking the relish with which Karkat speaks. “He’s a shithead,” he says simply. “It’s uncomplicated and perfect hate.”  


Kanaya untangles herself from Karkat’s limbs so she can sit back on her bed. That’s where they’ve been cuddling for the past – half an hour, is it? She thinks that’s how long it’s been, anyway. Kanaya’s been curved around him protectively, as if she can shield him from whatever’s been causing him this pain.  


The first quadrant Karkat filled was the pale one. Originally, he’d been with one of their other friends, Gamzee, but it had been a one-sided thing that had ended up failing. That was when Kanaya had stepped into his life, thin and a little bit awkward at the time (she’s still thin but a lot less awkward, if the many times Karkat’s accidentally seen her with Rose are anything to go by). Their moiraillegance has spanned many years since.  


They’ve supported each other through the times they both longed for their current matesprits, and even encouraged each other to just take the plunge and get together with them.  


Karkat will tell anyone that he’s found the perfect three people to be his matesprit, moirail and kismesis. He’s always hoped that maybe he could be an auspistice for someone, too; the tiny bit of control that provides would make him feel a little better about himself, that he can accomplish something.  


He can predict what Kanaya’s going to say next, and he’s not wrong.  


“Karkat, perhaps you should consider finding an auspistice for yourself and Terezi.”  


Karkat sits up with a snort. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He wrinkles his nose and bares his teeth in an attempt at a snarl.  


Kanaya just thinks it makes him look like an angry kitten.  


John would probably agree.  


“Who’d want to stick their nose in this clusterfuck and keep things normal?” he growls.  


His moirail gives him a serene smile. “I have someone in mind. Meet me in the cafeteria tomorrow; I’ll find her and Terezi and bring them with me. Hopefully, she will agree to be your auspistice, and you will no longer have to worry about vacillating between Dave and Terezi.”  


Despite the fear, irritation and worry churning in his stomach, Karkat cracks a tiny smile. “Thanks, Kanaya.”  


She reaches across to grip his hand. Her hold is tight, comforting and very much there. In it, Karkat can tell just how much she cares about him. He squeezes her fingers in return in the hope that she’ll understand that he reciprocates her affection.  


“I will never push you away if you ask for my help,” she promises. There isn’t really any reason for her to say this aloud – it’s all part of the package in being a moirail.  


Still, it’s appreciated.  


Yes, Karkat thinks, he has filled his quadrants perfectly.  


John: a dorky yet really quite sweet matesprit.  


Kanaya: his supportive moirail.  


And Dave: a hideous pile of shit that Karkat despises with his entire being.  


If Terezi took over Dave’s role as kismesis, she could topple nearly everything Karkat’s worked for. All he’d have left would be Kanaya (and Terezi, but that would be a thoroughly one-sided kismesis).  


He’s only had Kanaya before, but the mere idea of losing John is one that Karkat doesn’t like to entertain. 

*

  
tipsyGnostalgic [GT] began pestering uranianUmbra [UU]

TG: callie?  
TG: where are you?  
TG: its been days  
TG: im gettin worried  
TG: is this the thing u were talkin about  
TG: the thing you sent me  
TG: im openin it either way, im worried bout u  
TG: u can yell at me later

Quickly exiting the chat, Roxy clicks through her files until she reaches the ones full of downloaded items. Most people would think she’d be unorganised when it came to naming computer files, but Roxy’s actually quite thorough about it – save for the spelling mistakes, of course. Aside from those, the way they’re ordered makes perfect sense.  


It’s easy to find the document Calliope sent her all those months ago. Roxy doesn’t even need to remember what she’d said when she’d given it to her, as it’s titled: ‘don’t open Unless necessary!’  


An odd pang goes through Roxy’s chest when she thinks of Calliope’s cheerful grey text. It’s been several long days without her, filled with keeping Jake, Jane and Dirk from falling into pandemonium, and she’s not had a drop to drink for the sake of her friends, not since she woke up after midnight about a few weeks ago to speak to Calliope.  


Ow. Another little jab in her chest. At least, that’s what it feels like. When did Roxy begin to care so much for Calliope? It’s ridiculous. Hesitantly, she takes a peek at those feelings, and realises that they’re not even friendship-y anymore. No, it feels like a crush, but something else – stronger. It’s pleasantly warm in Roxy’s chest.  


Now isn’t the time.  


Pushing her epiphany aside for now, Roxy double-clicks on the document and anxiously waits for it to load. When it does, she reads over it once, quickly, and then again more slowly.

dearest roxy,  
i do hope this won’t be an inconvenience, bUt I reqUire yoUr assistance!  
UnfortUnately, there may be a slight problem with my brother. he is a difficUlt one, and i fear that something may happen to me, which is why i have sent you this. i don’t want yoU to end Up worrying!  
all yoU need to do is say my name. hopefUlly, if there was a sitUation, that will resolve it. if i still don’t come back, i’m going to have to ask yoU to do something that may be a little dangeroUs – know that i woUldn’t ask this of yoU Unless i thoUght yoU coUld handle it! yoU’ll need to come to where i live to make sUre i hear my name. there’s a chance i may not be able to read it.  
i apologise in advance for what you may see. if yoU coUld, woUld yoU mind keeping what yoU see to yoUrself, as well as yoUr thoUghts? if yoU wish, i can explain everything, bUt otherwise, please forget it. it will be better for everyone involved.  
come armed, please. it shoUldn’t be necessary, bUt i’d hate to get yoU hUrt.  
if yoU do end Up having to find me, the address is on the next page of this docUment.  
ta!  
calliope 

Roxy’s heart is pounding by the time she’s finished it twice. It sounds like her brother’s been threatening her, or even hurting her, and is it weird that that gives Roxy the desire to harm him in return? Not at all, she supposes, in the light of her new feelings towards Calliope.  


It makes her feel a little dizzy, the affection she’s feeling, but in a good way.  


It’s heart-achingly sweet that Calliope would be worried about Roxy even in the face of her own danger. She wants nothing more than to wrap Calliope up in a blanket and tuck her away, maybe curl up with her to keep her warm and safe. Maybe, after this is all over, Roxy will suggest it.  


She’s already said Calliope’s name to her over the chat they use, but there had been no response. Thinking it might have been because she’d used her nickname, Roxy opens the minimized window to try her full name.

TG: calliope

Still nothing.  


That settles it, then. She’ll have to track her down. It shouldn’t be difficult – Calliope provided her with the necessary information, after all – but Roxy still feels the flutter of nerves in her stomach.  


From the very beginning of their friendship, when they met through a fanfiction site, Calliope has been a little bit wary of giving Roxy an image of herself. Roxy’s assured her time and again that she sincerely doubts she’d find Calliope ugly, but she’s also said that it doesn’t matter. She knows Calliope’s a brilliant friend, after all, so why should her appearance matter? But, despite her gentle coaxing, Calliope has remained firm.  


It feels odd now to step over that line. If she goes to Calliope’s house (which she will, there’s no two ways about it), she’ll see her. Then again, Roxy will finally be able to reassure her that she has no need to worry at all.  


 _That_ thought is a pleasant one.  


Spinning her chair, Roxy casts a glance around her room for weaponry. There’s not much that could be of use to her in a fight. If worst comes to worst, she supposes she can always use her own fists. She would have used that option, if Calliope hadn’t seemed so worried in her letter. There is one other option, but it’s a slightly more difficult one.  


Gnawing her lip, Roxy considers it.  


She knows for a fact that there is a gun available to her. A rifle, specifically. She’s used it before in the garden, mostly through idle curiosity to see what it would be like to wield such a weapon. She’s not a bad shot either, even when inebriated. Thankfully, she isn’t even the slightest bit drunk this time.  


Roxy scribbles Calliope’s address on a scrap of paper, closes the lid on her laptop and disappears out the bedroom door.

 

*

The buzz of chatter around them in the cafeteria is stifling. Karkat’s never been a fan of crowds; he prefers to eat his lunch outside, under a nice willow tree, with John, Kanaya and Rose for company. Many lunchtimes have been spent in the warm sun with those three, and Karkat has fond memories attached to them.  


For example, there was the time just before he and John had become a couple. Kanaya had already gone and started up a relationship with Rose and, in her delight over her new flushed partner, had spent more time with her than with her moirail. 

She’d apologized, of course, and Karkat had forgiven her, but at the time, he’d taken the opportunity to sit by himself.  


That was when he’d found the willow tree.  


He still doesn’t know what it was that tempted him to venture under its leaves, but there had been something soothing about it. The first time Karkat had stood under its slender, waving branches, something in him that had been quietly furious had settled down. It comes back all the time, of course, but whenever he steps under it, even today, it still gives him a little bit of peace.  


It stands on the school grounds, at the edge of the field, away from the loud chatter of people. Karkat knows for a fact that most of the other students don’t like to visit it; as always with schools, there are rumours of that particular area being haunted.  


Maybe that’s why Karkat feels safe there. Because he knows that if ghosts do exist, they wouldn’t bother someone who just wants to escape for a while.  


John’s face had been one of wonder when Karkat had shown him the tree. His stupidly blue eyes had lit up with stupid happiness that had made Karkat feel stupidly warm in response.  


It's one of his favourite memories.  


In contrast to the quiet peace of the willow tree, the cafeteria is a mess of noise and people and the greasy smells of terrible food. He suppresses a shiver from where he’s sat in the corner, folds his arms and sinks further down in his plastic chair.  


Kanaya still hasn’t turned up with Terezi and their suggested auspistice, and lunch is half over. He wishes it was summer; if it was, he could hide away in his small corner of the grounds (preferably with John or Kanaya), instead of tolerating the horrific press of God-knows-how-many-people in one room. The cold winter weather has kept them all inside, in the warm, unfortunately.  


Three sets of footsteps alert him to the people he’s been waiting for. Flicking his gaze up, he sees his moirail’s slender form winding her way through the throng, followed by Terezi ( _don’t be angry, don’t snap at her, don’t hate her, don’t do it_ ) and, surprisingly, a girl he vaguely knows to be a relative of John’s, but he’s not quite sure what the connection is.  


“Apologies,” Kanaya says by way of greeting, sliding into one of the seats next to him. “Terezi was proving difficult to track down.”  


Karkat nods stiffly; a quick glance at Terezi confirms that she, too, is feeling the strain. Her oddly sharp teeth are clearly gritted, even though her lips remain firmly over them, pressed together, like Karkat’s.  


He breathes a sigh of relief. At least she’s realised the danger if the… _dislike_ they feel for each other gets out of hand.  


Surprisingly, Karkat realises that Terezi’s a little bit soft underneath her barbed exterior. She must genuinely care for Dave, if she wants to keep their matespritship. (Karkat actually doubts whether Dave would be all that fazed by losing Karkat as his kismesis, but Karkat doesn’t want to take that chance. He likes hating Dave too much anyway.)  


Terezi takes a seat opposite him, which leaves the last free seat – on Karkat’s right – for the third girl. She takes the last step with an odd little skip in her stride. She seems like a cheerful person; she’ll probably be very good at keeping Karkat and Terezi from descending into squabbles all the time, if she’s so bubbly.  


Kanaya clears her throat. “Karkat, this is Jade Harley. You might know her through John…?” At the shake of her moirail’s head, Kanaya continues. “She was the one I was referring to when I suggested that you and Terezi should have an auspistice. I feel that she will be good for the two of you.”  


Jade breaks into a bright smile. She beams at the two of them, and finally speaks up. Her voice is a sort of chatter, one that Karkat can’t help but listen to. Maybe it’s because of the slight bit of John he sees in her- but that’s a disturbing thought track, recognising his matesprit in his auspistice, so he cuts it off before it can go anywhere.  


“This is gonna be great!” she exclaims. “John’s told me all about you, Karkat, you sound really nice! And Terezi,” she adds, turning in her seat to face her. Terezi raises her eyebrows, as if surprised that Jade is speaking directly to her. “Dave and me, we’re good friends, and…”  


As Jade carries on, actually provoking a conversation from Terezi, Karkat lets her words fade for now.  


He catches Kanaya smiling smugly at him out of the corners of his eyes.

oOo

As much as he wants to test out this new quadrant, there’s only so much of Terezi Karkat can stand. When he mentions that he’s meant to be meeting John, the three of him let him go with varied reactions: Kanaya with an understanding look; Jade with a bright smile; and Terezi with a curt nod.  


Despite the shiver that runs across him at the bite of the winter air, Karkat soldiers on into the outdoors. The harsh wind ruffles his hair and he bites back a little growl of frustration at it.  


When he reaches the willow tree, the branches are a little wilder than usual because of the wind, but it’s with the ease of practice that Karkat slips past them to the calm beneath. It’s like the eye of the storm, beneath its oddly shaped leaves: calm and peaceful.  


John had laughed when Karkat had suggested meeting up outside after he’d spoken to Kanaya, but he’d agreed in the end. He’d asked Karkat what his fascination was with the tree, and in reply Karkat’s cheeks had burned and he’d averted his gaze with a mutter of, “I just like it, okay?”  


At Karkat’s clearly disgruntled response, John had softened and leaned forward to peck him on the nose. “I’ll see you there,” he’d promised, before darting off to find… Karkat can’t even remember who John went to find, actually; it wasn’t important.  


He’s pleasantly surprised to see John waiting. His mood – blackened just a bit from Terezi’s presence – lifts again.  


“Karkat!” John beams at him. In his customary annoying (and cute) greeting, John wraps Karkat up in his arms and kisses him on the nose. He does that a lot. “How did it go? Did you like Jade?”  


“She’s not as annoying as most people, I guess,” Karkat supplies.  


Evidently, John takes that as a ‘she’s fantastic’, because he laughs and says, “I knew you’d like her!”  


‘Like’ is a bit of an overstatement, but it’ll do.  


Surprisingly, John sobers up. “So, all that trouble with Terezi’s over now?” he asks, somewhat hesitantly. “I didn’t like seeing you so worried. You never stopped being twitchy about it, Karkat, and now you’re just… normal.”  


He rolls his eyes. “It’s fine.” Karkat offers John a tiny smile, one that he saves just for him. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m fine. It’s worked out. Can we just – forget about it for now?”  


It’s probably not a very healthy start to the ashen relationship if he’s thinking that, but Karkat’s spent enough time worrying himself sick over Terezi and Dave for too long now. He just wants to relax with his matesprit, wind down until he feels more like himself.  


John gives him an odd look – which, to be fair, he probably deserves – but nods, the smile quickly returning to his lips. “Sure. Do you want to come over after school?”  


Why not? “Yeah, alright. We could watch a movie,” Karkat suggests. The way that makes John’s face light up is undoubtedly worth whatever shitty one he'll pick.  


And it’s so simple, so easy after so long, it’s all he can do not to just thank whatever God exists (if there is one) for helping him out for once.

*

It isn’t meant to happen yet, she realises. It’s not, and she can feel it drowning her, pulling her under, and it’s all her fault. Neither she nor Caliborn can dominate yet – she knows this, she realised it, but he obviously doesn’t know, because he’s fighting tooth and nail now. He’s positively clawing for control. But Calliope can’t let either of them win, she has to balance it for now.  


If she backs down, Caliborn will crush her, and it’s not time yet so he won’t even become a proper cherub. If she wins, the same will happen: she’ll be condemned to a half-life.  


But if Calliope can settle them back into the awkward tie they had before…

oOo

The entrance to Calliope’s… home is quite weirdly placed, Roxy has to admit. There are the ruins of some sort of building in the middle of a field of faded yellow grass; the stone from the walls has fallen in places, leaving it broken and shattered on the ground. The door itself is a simple metal hatch in the ground. For now, it’s closed, and there’s no sound from inside.  


Roxy shivers. It’s a little bit creepy.  


She has to put her rifle down to be able to open the door. She reluctantly puts the weapon down, resting it on the cracking grass. Gripping the edge of the metal, she puts as much strength as she can into heaving it open.  


The hinges protest with an earsplitting screech, and then a clang as she gets it past its tipping point and it lands on the ground. Roxy winces and practically pounces on her rifle, swinging it back up into her arms again and directing it at the hatch. When nothing emerges, she inches closer to it, one tiny step at a time, and peers over the edge.  


She can see vague shapes inside. There’s something that looks a bit like a sarcophagus, there’s definitely a desk in one corner with a computer on it along with a bunch of posters and books.  


And, strangely, pieces of bloody meat on the ground?  


Weird.  


Roxy swallows her nerves. She can practically hear a voice that sounds like Dirk in her head reminding her that silence is never a good thing in movies, but then that’s something that Jake would probably say, instead. She should have brought him for backup; they used to go shooting together. They'd make a good team. And then, of course, there’s Jane trying to be optimistic in her head, too.  


 _Stop partyin’ in my head,_ she thinks, and then promptly forgets that she even thought of it, because she hears something from inside the room under her feet.  


The sound isn’t an encouraging one.  


It’s the scrape metal makes across stone, followed by a faint brush on the ground. There’s no call of Roxy’s name, as she expected, but instead there’s the unmistakable sound of quiet laughter, for some reason. It chills Roxy to the bone, and makes her take a hesitant step back.  


“Were you trying a twist, instead?” a squeaky but definitely male voice asks, sounding more than a little bit amused.  


Roxy frowns. Okay, that’s definitely not Calliope. It must be her brother, then; she’s never mentioned his name, but how bad can he be, really? Even if he has been causing Calliope trouble, _he's her brother._ Siblings don't have to get along, but she doubts they'd ever actually hurt each other.  


Gripping the rifle tighter (but carefully doing so, she’s not an idiot), Roxy stays silent. Maybe he’ll just say where Calliope is if Roxy pretends not to be there.  


She can practically hear his irritation crackle in the air.  
“Don’t ignore me,” he snarls. Something clinks from down below, like metal on metal this time-  


And then a curse. The shuffling sound stops. It starts again, growing fainter, and then louder again. Frowning, Roxy inches forwards so she can see into the hole again.  


She knows for a fact that she’ll never forget the sight.  


The creature – there really is no other word for it – standing there has dark green skin and piercing red eyes. His expression is pulled down into a scowl- no, a glare, one of pure hatred. There’s no hair to speak of on his head, which makes the stark contrast between humans and… whatever he is even more obvious, if possible. Unmistakably sharp teeth jut out over his bottom lip.  


There are little red swirls on his cheeks, too, which is actually a little bit adorable.  


What Roxy’s concerned about the most, however, is the barrel of the gun pointed at her face.  


With a yelp, she throws herself backwards, landing on the crunchy grass. Her back and elbow are the first parts of her to hit the ground, and while that’s painful, there’s also the accidental jerk of her arm that makes her pull the trigger on her own rifle.  


A few bullets ping off of the delicate structure around the hatch. The loud _tak-tak-tak_ of the creature’s joins it. The sharp cracks hurt Roxy’s ears. She drops the weapon in her arms to clap her hands over them, but it does little to protect them.  


Once he seems satisfied, the creature stops firing. He shrieks something up at her, but she can’t hear it; her ears are ringing and she’s still got them covered up.  


Slowly, eventually, she hesitantly lowers her hands. Whatever that creature is, he’s still moving about in his little room, chattering away to himself in a furious fashion. His words are too fast and, frankly, his voice is so annoying that Roxy tunes him out. Instead, she carefully sits up and raises her arm to examine the damage.  


She must’ve hit a stray stone as she fell, because there’s a long scrape along the underside of her arm. It’s left a trail of blood along her skin, as well as on the grass and her shirt. She doesn’t know for certain, but she’s pretty sure that blood stains, which sucks, because that was a new one. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have anything to clean or bandage it with, so she’ll have to leave it as it is. Wincing, she lowers it back to her side.  


Despite her wishes otherwise, she listens to him talk. “That was the worst twist,” he snaps, as if he’s talking to someone, “but it was an attempt. I guess. Sending along an agent to do your dirty work? Try harder.”  


He speaks in halting English. Roxy doesn’t have any idea whether that’s just how he talks, or whether it’s his thoughts rapidly changing track, or something else. Frankly, she doesn’t care.  


Gritting her teeth against the little twinges in her arm, Roxy rolls forward onto her knees, ignoring the mud that will be left on her legs. It’ll look like she’s been through a battle when she leaves anyway, considering the blood now all over her right side.  


She speaks above the creature, her voice firm. “Calliope. Where is she?”  


Silence.  


When no reply comes, Roxy resigns herself to waiting.

oOo

Night falls, and with it comes the cold. Roxy didn’t expect to be out for so long, so she didn’t bring anything warm with her. As a result, she’s sat against one of the crumbling walls for shelter, shivering.  


True, she could’ve gone down into the hatch, but she would’ve been at a disadvantage; the enemy was armed and she would’ve been climbing down a ladder, after all.  


Which meant that she’d been left outside, in the freezing cold. There hadn’t been a single word from the creature after she’d asked after Calliope, but she hasn’t heard from her friend, either.  


Roxy’s really starting to worry, and it’s not just about Calliope. What about Jane, Jake and Dirk? She prays that they haven’t torn each other apart over ridiculously oblivious Jake, without her there to mediate. It would really ruin her day if she went home without the knowledge that her best friend (and crush, but maybe now isn’t the best time, and anyway, it sounds like a incredibly childish term for what Roxy feels) is safe.  


It’s only when the stars have appeared and the moon is just peeping up from over the tallest part of the ruins that there’s a new, hesitant shuffle from inside. Roxy reaches for her rifle, laying a wary hand on it.  


This time, the sound that she first hears is one that’s so welcome she feels tears well up in her eyes.  


A female voice.  


“Roxy?”  


“Callie?”  


“Yes! Oh, dear, my apologies! I didn’t think-”  


“You shut the fuck up,” Roxy interrupts, albeit affectionately. She scrambles to her feet to get to the hatch, but turns on her heel so quickly she almost falls over again. She makes a quick detour to grab her gun, and then finally, finally she crouches down to get her first look at Calliope.  


Roxy almost reels back in shock.  


Even in the dark of night, Roxy isn’t mistaken: she looks almost exactly like the creature that had tried to gun her down. There are a few slight differences, though. Calliope’s eyes are lime green, for example, as are the spirals on her cheeks. There’s a much friendlier light in her face, though; it warms Roxy to her toes to see it.  


However, the smile quickly fades, replaced by a look of apprehension. She steps back until the dim lighting from inside isn’t enough to let Roxy see.  


That’s when Roxy realises that something is _wrong wrong wrong_.  


“Hold on, Callie,” she says, sitting up. “Here, take this, I gotta climb down this thing, I can’t do it if I got a gun in my hands.” Without waiting for her friend to agree, Roxy (carefully) grips the barrel of her rifle and sticks the trigger-end down the hatch. She hears a soft sigh, as if Calliope is against the idea, but she reaches out and takes it.  


Her hands are green, too.  


Once the gun is out of the way, Roxy swings herself around and places her feet on the first rung. It’s a difficult climb, mostly because she can barely see where she’s going, and it’s a relief for her when her feet touch the ground. Then Roxy looks up and gets her first good look at Calliope.  


Her friend has put her rifle down on the desk nearby, and now she’s sort of… cringing. She’s turned away a little bit, her arms are folded across her chest, and her eyes are closed. Her shoulders are hunched over just a bit, too.  


It makes Roxy’s heart ache.  


She moves over to Calliope, intending to comfort her, but stops when her foot catches on something. It makes the same metallic sound that she’d heard before, just after she’d opened the hatch.  


It’s a chain, one of two. One of the shackles is fitted snugly around Calliope’s ankle, while the other is simply curled in a pile by the wall. There’s an odd design on the lock of the one Calliope’s wearing.  


Roxy glances up to see Calliope watching her now. She seems to have shut herself away, putting a mask in place.  


“The hell?”  


That doesn’t seem to be the response Calliope was expecting. Her eyes widen slightly, and her hands slip from where they’d been gripping her upper arms. She seems to deliberate her reply for a moment before saying, “It’s difficult to explain, Roxy.”  


Is it odd that it feels like Roxy’s known that voice for a long time? Either way, that’s what it’s like.  


It’s breaking her heart to see Calliope so… tentative. She knows for a fact that her friend can be much brighter and happier than that; she’s spoken to her when she’s in those moods, she knows that Calliope. But this Calliope, this nervous, hesitant one is killing Roxy.  


“Can you try?” She dares to place a hand on Calliope’s cheek, resting her thumb on one of those odd green swirls. Calliope tilts into the touch, despite the strange twist of her mouth that says she wishes otherwise.  


In the end, Calliope’s shoulders sag and she nods, but she doesn’t look pleased about it.  


She makes Roxy comfortable, insisting that she sit on her desk chair, before she delves into the topic of cherubs. Calliope stays on her feet, moving back and forth, while Roxy follows her with her gaze.  


It’s an interesting subject, and Roxy stores away all she learns, but mostly she’s just in pain. She can see that Calliope’s worried, and she can take a good guess why.  


Cherubs sound like they’re meant to be solitary beings, and yet here Calliope is: she’s clearly become attached to Roxy, and she’s pretty sure that she’s scared of losing her.  


Calliope’s wariness of letting Roxy see her has been something that’s made her heart ache in odd ways for a long time. Only now does she realise that it’s because of the strength of the affection she feels.  


To put it plainly: Calliope must be worried that Roxy’s going to push her off because she’s not human.  


It’s enough to make Roxy stand up in the middle of Calliope’s explanation. The cherub stops, worry flickering across her expression before she smoothes it out. “Roxy?”  


She strides over to her friend until they’re practically nose to nose. If Roxy had done this while Calliope’s brother was in place, she’d probably have lost her life – not that she’d have been stupid enough to get close to such a dangerous person anyway.  


The knowledge that another cherub shares that body, that another one had those eyes, those cheeks, those hands, those razor sharp teeth is enough to make Roxy want to recoil. But she doesn’t, because she knows better.  


Calliope described the others of her kind – the benevolent cherubs – as protectors. She would never let anything happen to Roxy.  


Which is why she feels perfectly safe in leaning forwards and lightly placing her lips on Calliope’s cheek.  


When she returns to a distance that’s probably semi-platonic, she sees Calliope’s almost hilariously surprised expression. She knows that the cherub isn’t ignorant of human customs when it comes to romance; she and Calliope have spent many nights talking about fiction and, within that, their favourite couples. There’s no way Calliope could possibly mistake the gesture, especially when Roxy does it again, only this time on her other cheek.  


She moves back again, but this time stays firmly within Calliope’s personal space. She takes the lack of pushing away as a good sign.  


Placing her hands on Calliope’s cheeks, Roxy offers her a small smile. “You’re beautiful, Callie.”  


It’s thrilling to say the words that have been on her mind for so long, especially when it’s free of the taint of alcohol. It’s feels good to get this off her chest, even though it hasn’t been sitting there for very long.  


“You’re beautiful and smart and damn cute, Callie.” Roxy swallows the other three words that almost spill out after the others. Now’s way, way too early, even for her, and she’s pretty blunt when she wants to be.  


Calliope seems to get the message, though. Her eyes shine and a smile pulls at the corners of her lips. Roxy’s pretty sure her heart’s going to beat out of her chest with excitement. It stutters when Calliope’s arms tentatively settle around her, tugging her into a hug.  


It doesn’t matter that Roxy’s back aches and her arm still hurts faintly. The problem with Jane, Jake and Dirk has fled her mind at the moment. Any lingering worry over Calliope’s ‘brother’ is gone.  


Calliope is hugging her.  


And, quietly, Roxy hears her whisper, “Thank you, Roxy. For everything.”


End file.
